The Medicated Ones
by LauralHilll
Summary: What happens when vamps start taking Prozac?


One night, as Andre was coming home from the pharmacy for his mother, he was attacked by a vampire. Andre was a sensible enough lad, meaning not only did he not believe in vampires, but he also kept a switchblade on his person.

When some people are confronted with what they thought was a myth, they panic. They suddenly become convinced of the reality, and their rational selves cannot handle this.

Others, however, simply refuse to believe the evidence of their eyes, and see instead what should be there, in their own reality. Andre saw an ugly man after his wallet, and reacted accordingly, slashing at his face.

The vampire wasn't too happy about this, so he broke Andre's wrist that was holding the knife. This surprised Andre enough for the vampire to finish feeding. However, what neither the vampire nor Andre knew was what would happen next. That is, neither knew exactly how vampires were made. Andre of course had no clue, but the vampire, well, he was only present at one siring, his own, and was not really paying much attention.

So neither of them really noticed the drops of blood streaming down the vampire's face into Andre's mouth, nor would they have realized the significance of this, even if they had. The vampire simply left Andre for dead.

When Andre awoke, it was as a vampire. He felt nothing but a surging, overpowering lust for blood. He searched his jacket and found only the Prozac he had been intending to bring home to his mother. He swallowed the container whole, and went on a hunt.

After attacking and draining a cat, the drugs began to kick in. The cat hadn't sated the bloodlust, merely awakened an urge for human blood. But when the drugs began to affect him, the lust was quiet. He still felt a hunger, but it wasn't overpowering. He felt slightly normal, but suddenly the shock of what had happened hit him.

Vampires don't normally have a sense of morality comparable to humans in any way, but then no vampire had ever taken Prozac before. Andre still wasn't exactly sure what had happened to him, as he had little familiarity with vampires. However, when some weirdo attacks you, drinks your blood, then you have a craving for blood, there's basically a short leap in logic to take.

"I'm a vampire," said Andre in wonder. He wasn't exactly sure what to do with this knowledge, though. He decided to just go home and try not to scare - or eat - his mother.

That didn't exactly work out as planned, however. First of all, his mother had gotten quite worried about him, and hugged him tightly when he got home. At the sight of her neck so close to him, the urge nearly kicked in. But he was able to resist that. He wasn't able to explain the missing meds, however. Finally he said that he was mugged and they were taken. She gave him the money to get more.

Now, Andre was a rational young man. He didn't know a lot about vampires, but was pretty sure that they were cold-blooded killers. He figured the only reason he wasn't was due to the medication. He wasn't going to really be able to steal his mother's, so he'd have to get his own prescription. For that, he'd need money. He'd have to quit his old job at the comic book store and get a nighttime job. All he'd have to spend money on was blood and Prozac, so he could put the rest in a savings account. And he'd live a long time, so eventually he could quit the job and live off the interest.

It was a good plan, he decided. He called the shop the next morning before he went to bed, telling them he quit, and would come in at night to pick up his last check. The manager was angry but what could he do? That night, after picking up his check, he checked want ads. "Night Watchmen," he read.

He showed up immediately for the job. The head guard didn't like his look, but a firm bone-crushing handshake changed that opinion. So Andre now had a decent job. He next needed a prescription for Prozac.

Which was easy enough to get. The only problem was finding a psychiatrist with night-time hours. He called his mother's shrink and asked for a recommendation. He got an appointment in a month with one who kept later hours, for patients with actual nine-to-five jobs.

What did Andre do during that month? Well, he stole his mother's Prozac. He pretended to have gotten mugged another couple of times, but that seemed to worry her. He found he didn't care as much about her worrying about him as he used to, but she became more of an annoyance. Fortunately this kept him in medication till his appointment.

"So," said Dr. Grey, "how are we feeling this evening."

"Terrible," said Andre truthfully. He had taken a single pill in the past few days, and the rage and bloodlust were coming back with a vengeance.

"Tell me about it."

"OK, well, I have this burning desire to kill everyone I see. I know it's wrong, but I'm just filled with hatred for the human race. In fact, sometimes I wish I could blow up the entire world."

"I see, I see. How long have you felt this way?"

"It comes and goes in cycles. Sometimes I feel perfectly normal, and sometimes..."

Dr. Grey nodded and made some notes. They talked for a little while longer, and then Dr. Grey finally said, "Well, it sounds like a form of bipolar disorder. We'll try Prozac, ok?"

He nodded, impatient as the doctor filled the prescription pad.

At the drugstore he did something he was almost ashamed of. He "vamped out" and threatened the clerk so he'd give him all the Prozac they had. Later, after dinner and a pill, he felt that it wasn't such a good idea, and left a good deal of money in an envelope for the clerk.

He decided that in human terms, he could be considered a psychopath. He didn't exactly feel guilty for nearly biting the clerk, but he did feel that it was unwise to burn bridges like that. He needed the drugs to feel "normal," and the clerk was his most accessible path to them. The clerk might call the police the next time he saw him, hence the envelope full of money.

He felt the need to conform to society's rules, not because they felt right or wrong, but because he wanted to exisit in society. Logically he realized it was a bit foolish, but he knew no other vampires, so couldn't really exist in their societies. And he definitely felt the need for companionship. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that humans were totally inferior, but then again he had felt that way even alive.

Andre had a decent setup, he thought. He managed to save enough money to get his own place, before his mother noticed he had stopped aging at all. He tried dating a few girls, but they tended to be wary of a man with cold hands. And his town was small enough that word of his eccentric habits soon spread.

So he decided to move to a larger city. New York. It was much easier to find jobs with "graveyard" shifts there, and he even met other vampires. Most of them sneered at his lifestyle, but a few envied him. The other young vampires also found the transition from alive to undead hard sometimes, and asked him what his secret was. "Prozac," he said.

And thus began the Cult of the Medicated Ones.


End file.
